If It Were Up to Me
by Spunksterdawg
Summary: RaexRob. i dont exactly know what its about, but i assure u its at least worth reading if not reviewing. flames accepted nd used to heat homeless people.
1. Prologue

**I dunno what happened, but I suddenly have this revived and utterly rejuvenated thirst to write a fanfiction. So I am quenching that insatiable appetite. **

**If it Were Up to Me**

**Prologue**

**Raven's POV**

My eyes glided along each line of the thin, flimsy parchment, unblinking and all seeing. As my ebony pupils neared the end of the yellowing paper, I slid my index finger under the page. Stopping mid-sentence, I delicately flipped the decrepit page and continued the sentence on the other side. The muffled noises in the kitchen were growing increasingly louder, in close recession, the television program an irritated Robin was watching. After a thump, a resounding clang, and an "Eeep!" the din ceased to a halt. The channel Robin had been watching was silent. I slowed to a stop at the period and raised my attention to the kitchen. From the looks of it, after feeding Beastboy one of her notorious concoctions, Starfire had caused Beastboy to choke and pass out. Surprised, Starfire had dropped her lifeless pot on his battered skull. With a whine and an inaudible curse muttered underneath his breath, Beastboy rose up on wobbly legs. Starfire began her barrage of apologies and devastating hugs and followed the swearing boy out the door. With but a moment's hesitation, Robin's T.V. program churned to life once more. After watching Cyborg pick his way through the alarming mess to the fridge, grab a water bottle and pick his way out and return to the Training room, I descended my eyes back to the wrinkled paperback novel before me.

**Sorry it was so short, but it's only a prologue. The other chapters will be better. I know this story stinks a bit. Tell me all. Flames accepted, read, and used in future writing. Feel free to be rude. Criticize at will. But w/e you do, review. **


	2. Chapter 1

**It took me longer to think of the title than it took to write the prologue. But w/e. if anyone reviewed, I won't know, because I wrote this the same day as I wrote the prologue. Sorry to anyone kind enough to relay your aroused thoughts about the fic. To those who are either dedicated or just plain bored, I present you with my eternal gratitude. **

**If anyone noticed, I don't put up disclaimers for the obvious reason that it is unnecessary. If I owned the show, I would not be spending my time burning up valuable brain cells on the sole intent of writing a story the audience can enjoy. So don't expect any from me. **

**If it Were Up to Me**

**Chapter 1**

**Raven's POV**

My eyes blurred for a brief moment before I resumed absorbing the story resting between my fingers. Again, my eyes blurred, but the blurring increased to utter darkness. The veil of creamy, shadowy, depth had just barely wrapped its silken folds around me when a deep blood red blared from silent speakers. It filled ever corner, every fissure, every gap, and it didn't take long for me to realize I was going to have another vision. The four narrow eyes were soon in visible vicinity and the pupil-less irises stared cold yet so burning hot at me. I could feel that strange feeling I got when I had these types of visions. The strange feeling of being so volcanically bitten at with burning teeth that it left you feeling bitterly icy arrived faster than last time. The deep, yet hollow, almost metallic voice echoed through the scarlet wasteland. The barren scene filled to the brim with increasing tension and I could almost feel an imaginary droplet of sweat make its path down my skin. It was getting hotter by the moment, and my pale grey flesh glowed with the radiating crimson heat. His voice sounded once again, impatient with my deepening silence.

"Speak!" his heavy voice demanded.

I myself was beginning to irritate.

"I did not choose to speak with you. You summoned me."

His booming voice, for the first time, appeared to falter with a sense of apprehension. "I did not." I was beginning to grow weary of this conversation, but my curiosity was peaked as well. Why was this happening? All I knew was that I wanted to leave. The putrid stench of hatred towards the demonic eyes staring darkly out at me was so strong. A violent lurch in the pit of my stomach, a nauseating sensation of swirling rapidly, and my eyes blurred. They fluttered, and then opened once more to see a blurry green mass flailing in front of me. I thought I was going to have another vision when at last my vision cleared and focused. I registered the green mass in front of me to be Robin's gloved hand waving before my eyes.

"Raaavveennn"

One final rippling shudder, and my mind recommenced operating. Even then, it took me a moment to pull out from my daze, but finally, the hollow eternity faded away. I blinked once, twice and then turned my face towards Robin. After patiently waiting a few more moments to make sure I was with him, he spoke.

"Are you alright?" His face seemed to emit tingling waves of concern. I could tell he was trying to keep his face from betraying his evident distress, failing nonetheless.

"It's nothing." It had taken every force in the universe to steady my mouth long enough not to stutter. To my relief, he bequeathed upon me a look of eminent disbelief, but left it alone. I was positive he would interrogate me with a vast expanse of futile questions and an even wider array of discontented looks, but that would be later. Unfortunately, I couldn't find myself falling into visions of much use to me, like what questions he would ask me later on. I cannot say that the visions I get are of little significance, it's just that it never seems to relay any good news. They pretty much expelled anything of the sort. It was almost as if someone was in charge of the visions I got and ostracized anything under the category of "good news". With a sigh I shoved that thought to the crammed corner in the back of my mind where all my thoughts seemed to end up. Woops. Another thought that went too deep. Into the back with it. Finally, my mind was clear and I watched Robin's face reluctantly rotate to face the kitchen, the floor, anything other than my face. I knew he was getting nervous, and feeling awkward in the hanging silence, I threw a final remark before standing up.

"I'm fine, but thank you." With one fluid motion and a simple flick and twist of the wrist, my hood was up, and my cape flowing behind me as I walked away. I looked down at my hands, even once I reached my room. Stepping into the dimly lit abyss of blue, grey, and purple, I stepped lightly over to my bed and sat down. I felt a sweeping tsunami of exhaustion, and the last thing I saw before drifting off was my forgotten book, frowning up at me, concern and rejection written in its ink-blotted eyes.

**Robin's POV**

Although the sun was beginning to pour its deepening liquid of light upon the slumbering city, I felt as though I were trapped within one of those soundless black and white movies. I heard nothing. I could sense the lapping of the ocean waves against the frigid morning stones, blackened from the wet pounding, but I couldn't hear it. This morning I felt too aloof, too deep in constant thoughts nibbling at my mind to notice anything. I was thinking nothing, everything, all at once. I couldn't hear anything because of the unbearably deafening clamor of silence ringing, echoing, resounding through my ears, my mind. I felt as though I were watching something through the eyes of a narrator, or maybe a ghost that can only see, and cannot speak. I stared long and hard at the thin ribbon of continuous, light underneath the door.

The solid monotony was broken by a silent shadow passing stealthily by. There was no doubting who it was. Once I was certain she had stepped out of hearing distance, the door whirred open and I slid out. I waited until the cold metal door had sealed shut before soundlessly pursuing her. I followed her until I reached Beastboy's room. Once the blue tip of her cloak vanished around the corner, I turned around, facing the barrier before me. I fingered the rubbery number pad, almost without touching, and allowed the automated door to glide open before stepping onto the green carpeting on the other side. After stumbling in the dark almost every step of they way, I reached the body mass rising slowly up and down on the top bunk. Reaching up to shake the dreaming boy, I woke him up, probably much more violently that I had intended. Whispering my commands surely into his ear, I exited the rubble-littered room and waited outside the door. I heard him groan and curse a little before pulling on some proper attire and stepping out into the bluish hallway light. I led Beastboy silently to my room, and the boy sleepily followed, dragging his feet along. After finding out Raven was headed towards the bridge, I set Beastboy up with a pinky-sized camcorder and strapped the material around his back, fastening the Velcro so it sealed tightly. I walked him outside and then left him so I could return to my room. From the corner of my eye, I could see Beastboy morph into a cheetah and run towards the bridge, following the trail of the midnight enchanter.

The path to my room was accompanied by a long walked filled with the laborious tedium of keeping quiet. Although it was no more than two minutes, I was ready to burst with impatience when I finally reached the silver slab labeled with the engraved letters of R, O, B, I and N. I sat down at my desk, flicking on the switch of the tableside lamp and waited for the laptop to whir to life. When the small computer was good and ready, I opened up a program that allowed me to see what Beastboy was recording. Perfect timing. Apparently, Beastboy had just reached his destination and now took the shape of a common fly. Currently, she wasn't doing much. She fiddled with the small clasp of her cloak, fingering it gingerly while staring out at the shady ocean. I could see she was watching a small duck—an ordinary, black, and white duck with a slivery, greenish neck—with the longing to be there with it. For someone who had once been destined for evil, her deepest most true desires were the most plain, simple ones. I, myself, almost fell asleep watching the shimmering ocean, the foamy waves overlapping in an unevenly awing pattern. I wasn't sure if I was enchanted, bored, tired or a little bit of each, but I found myself on the feeble brink of sleep several times. I was about to give up my attempts at remaining awake when she sighed. It was a long sigh, marking the end of her unrelenting gaze. She unclasped the intricate ornament, pulling off the blue material and setting it off to the side on the dull, gray concrete of the pedestrian foot-bridge. After teasing the buckle to her belt, she set down that, too, atop her crumpled cloak. Finally, she slipped the cuffs off her thin, delicate wrists and placed them side by side in the ring of her belt. With one last sigh, she plunged headfirst into the icy morning waves—much to my dismay. She hadn't returned to the surface and my typical over-protective always-concerned side was going crazy and ringing alarms. In my anxiety, I almost missed the purple head bursting through the seascape. Her dripping locks clung to the shape of her head and framed her pale face in slightly uneven clusters. Her delicately, deft face was crisscrossed with shadows from the dawning light. Sucking in a gulp of crisply fresh air, she dove down again. A thin mist of black energy surrounded the tiny device, and before her slender frame disappeared completely under the rippling waters, the last thing I saw were the changing colors of the water smirking at me before the screen went completely blank.

**Sorry if this was kinda weird. But w/e. I'm so tired from writing this AND the prologue, that I don't have much to say. Just review is all, really. Thank you**

**Spunksterdawg is back!**

**La one, la only**

**Spunksterdawg**


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